


All in All

by greenapricot



Series: All Told [2]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fingerfucking, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 01:32:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13202862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenapricot/pseuds/greenapricot
Summary: James gives him a half-smile, both awed and incredulous. Like he can’t quite believe this is happening. Robbie can’t quite believe it either, but he’s not going to let James back out on him now. Not now they’ve started, not now he’s seen and felt how much James wants this, not now he’s had his hands on James. Now he’s had this, he’s having more.





	All in All

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to After All, picks up right after the end of that fic. 
> 
> A million thanks to Lucyemers for the beta. All remaining mistakes are my own.

It has been months now that Robbie’s been putting the pieces together: an intake of breath at an odd moment, a lingering look, sitting close and then closer still on pub benches and Robbie’s sofa. Looking up across their shared office to find James gazing at him, wistful, before he turns away as if he’s been caught out. All the little and not so little things James has done that are above and beyond the call of a sergeant’s duties. 

And here they are, the usual post-case pints down the pub turned on their head, and a walk to James’ flat that feels entirely different to every other walk to either of their flats over the years. Robbie’s skin is buzzing everywhere he touched James and everywhere James touched him. He feels energised, electrified, unreal. The way James looked at him in the alley establishes beyond a shadow of Robbie’s doubt that his collected observations could lead to only one plausible conclusion. 

When James kissed him, the last shred of good sense Robbie had about James disappeared into to the night air along with his breath, gone right up into the sky as James pressed his tongue into his mouth and snogged him, gone when James moaned and pressed their bodies together.

Gone months ago, really, hindsight being what it is. Possibly years even. Gone that morning he found James in their office with whiteboards full of carefully ordered photos because Robbie had mentioned offhand that he thought something wasn’t right. The way James had turned away from him, the set of his shoulders shifting from excited to embarrassed, when Robbie asked why. He had wanted to reach out to James then—an impulse he’s found himself often fighting of late—to reassure James and bring back the bright smile that had lit up his face while he walked Robbie through all he had done with the photos; eager, proud, chuffed that Robbie was pleased.

Maybe someday he will think back over all the evidence and unpick the exact moment his subconscious sussed out the real reason for James’ unfailing loyalty, the exact moment some part of him admitted to feeling the same. It has built slowly, to the point where James is so much a part of his life that he can’t think what he would do without him, and he doesn’t want to ever have to. 

The door to James’ flat clicks shut and James turns to Robbie, his face half-lit by the dim light filtering through the window from the street, expression telegraphing undeniable want. They are standing less than a foot apart. Robbie closes the distance. 

James’ hand is tentative on Robbie’s cheek, an echo of the alley, as he tilts Robbie’s chin up, gazing into his eyes. The intensity of that look; if Robbie had any doubt left about how James felt about him, it would be gone now. James is studying him, searching for any sign that the walk from the pub has changed Robbie’s mind. Robbie hasn’t changed his mind. 

He tilts his head up, and James bends down, kissing him, surrounding him, pulling him close. James smells of cigarettes and whisky and something indefinable that is unmistakably James. It is a heady feeling, tilting his head up to be kissed, James’ big hands caressing his cheeks and jaw. Robbie moans as James runs his tongue over his lower lip and deepens the kiss, lost to heat and sensation and James. 

James kisses like a man who was drowning and Robbie is oxygen, as if the kiss in the alley was the tip of the iceberg. He kisses with his whole body, pressing himself against Robbie, sighing into his mouth, his hands roaming from Robbie’s neck to his arse, sliding under Robbie’s suit jacket once again and this time pulling his shirt out of his trousers, pushing his hands up under the shirt and over Robbie’s back. Robbie presses his knee between James’ legs again.

“Fuck,” James moans. Repetition has not lessened the effect. James’ movements falter for a moment, then he grinds down onto Robbie’s thigh. He bites at Robbie’s earlobe and the skin beneath his ear, teasing with his teeth and tongue, before pulling Robbie into a kiss and biting at Robbie’s lower lip. Robbie leans into James, pushes his leg further between James’, and is rewarded with another deep moan and James’ hands on his arse pulling them even closer together. 

Christ. James is hard. The feel of him alongside Robbie’s own rapidly hardening cock through both of their trousers is intoxicating. He moans into James’ mouth, grinding forward, chasing the perfect angle.

“Too many clothes,” James gasps, pushing at Robbie’s suit jacket. Robbie shrugs out of his jacket and drops it to the floor behind him, then grabs at James’ jacket, helping him pull his arms out of it between kisses, and taking a step back to give James space to drop it to the floor. 

James leans against the wall and looks at Robbie, all heat and undisguised want. 

“We’re doing this,” James says, his voice an octave lower than usual.

“Yes,” Robbie says. It comes out more breath than proper word. 

James gives him a half-smile, both awed and incredulous. Like he can’t quite believe this is happening. Robbie can’t quite believe it either, but he’s not going to let James back out on him now. Not now they’ve started, not now he’s seen and felt how much James wants this, not now he’s had his hands on James. Now he’s had this, he’s having more.

“Come here.” Robbie grabs James’ arm and pulls him closer. He can feel the warmth of James’ skin through his shirt. He wants to feel that warmth everywhere, with no fabric in the way.

He cups the nape of James’ neck and pulls him down for another kiss, then gets his hands between them and begins to unbutton James’ shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and pressing little bites and kisses to each new piece of golden skin he exposes. Or what he assumes would be golden skin if there was any light to see by.

“I want to see you,” Robbie says, running a hand across James’ chest until he finds a nipple. James’ breath catches when Robbie gives it a squeeze.

“Bedroom,” James breathes and starts pushing them down the hallway.

When they reach the bedroom, James drops his dress shirt to the floor and immediately starts to work on his trousers.

“You in a hurry?” Robbie asks, unable to keep the amusement from his voice.

James looks up, letting his trousers fall to the floor. Wearing nothing but grey boxer briefs that do nothing to disguise the outline of his cock, and his trousers around his ankles, he looks both ridiculous and impossibly attractive.

“A bit,” James says. He toes off his shoes and steps out of his trousers leaving the lot in a pile behind him, avoiding Robbie’s eyes. He’s still wearing his socks, the lavender ones. “Don’t want you to change your mind.”

Robbie laughs. They are quite a pair, aren’t they?

“I’m not going to change my mind. Especially not after all that,” Robbie says, gesturing down the hallway. “Or seeing you like this.”

James looks down at himself as if Robbie must be mistaken, then at Robbie who is still almost fully clothed.

“Why are you still dressed, then?” James asks, a hint of amusement in his voice. Robbie doesn’t need to be asked twice; he strips down to his pants.

James steps toward him and runs his hand down Robbie’s side, then over the curve of his arse, and pulls their bodies together, kissing him fiercely. The hard planes of James’ body and the press of another man’s erection against his own, only the thin fabric of their pants between them, is strange, but a good strange. A very good strange. Robbie mirrors James’ movements and gets his hands on James’ arse, walking them backwards until James’ legs hit the bed and he sits down with a surprised huff, face inches from Robbie’s cock.

James flashes him a quick smile and then leans forward pressing his open mouth over Robbie’s erection. Hot breath through his pants, James’ lips tracing the outline of his cock. Robbie moans and grabs James’ shoulders to keep from falling over. Then James sits up and crawls backwards onto the bed, throws back the duvet, flicks on the bedside lamp, and leans against the pillows with a look that couldn’t say _come and get me_ more clearly if he’d said it aloud.

Robbie climbs onto the bed by James’ feet and removes his ridiculous socks, one by one, bending down to kiss his ankle, then his calf, his knee, the inside of his thigh. James lets out a whimper at that, and Robbie gives James’ thigh another kiss, nips at the sensitive skin of his inner thigh below the leg of his pants. James moans, hips arching off the bed, then gives a frustrated sigh when Robbie stops. Robbie grins and sits up, moving forward and straddling James’ thighs, their cocks inches away from each other. James is watching him, intent, hopeful. Robbie rocks forward and—

“Fuck,” James moans, thrusting up against him. 

James is beautiful, like a work of art, like a sculpture in a museum, and in the light of the bedside lamp his skin is indeed golden. Robbie runs his hand across James’ stomach and ribs, his smooth chest, his neck, touching James’ jaw and turning his head to the side, exposing his neck to the light.

“Oh—” There are small purple bruises all along the left side of James’ neck and down across his collarbone and shoulder. Likely they will blossom larger in the coming days. “I didn’t mean—” Robbie says, gesturing toward James’ neck.

James scrunches his head down trying to see his own neck and brings his hand up to touch at the marks. They must be tender. There is one on his shoulder that he can just about see, and he prods at it with his finger, watching the skin lighten under the pressure and then darken again.

“You left a mark.”

“More than one I’m afraid.”

“How many?” James asks.

“Half a dozen?”

“Good,” James says, pulling Robbie down on top of him and kissing him, sliding his hands under the waistband of Robbie’s pants and pressing their bodies tighter together. Not the reaction Robbie was expecting.

“You like that,” Robbie says into James’ mouth.

“You could tell,” James says, kissing along Robbie’s neck. “You must be a detective.” Robbie can feel more than see the cheeky grin that accompanies his words. 

Robbie leans forward, hands on either side of James’ shoulders and bites at James’ bottom lip, kissing him when James opens his mouth with a sigh. And they are rutting against each other, James’ hands roaming up along Robbie’s back, those musician’s fingers playing him like an instrument, stroking moans from him.

Then James is tugging at Robbie’s pants saying, _get these off_ , and Robbie stands for a moment, pulling them down. James’ eyes follow his every movement, and he licks his lips when Robbie drops his pants to the floor giving James full view of his hard cock. Robbie tries not to think about the fact that he can’t possibly look as good to James as James does to him, and wastes no time getting back on the bed, settling on his heels over James’ legs, and pulling down the waistband of James’ pants, freeing his cock.

James cock is beautiful like the rest of him, long and lean and weeping against his belly. Robbie can’t quite believe he’s had that thought, and right on the heels of that is the even more startling thought that he’d like to taste it. So, he does. One lick up the length and across the head, salty with precome. James lets out a gasp that turns to a low hum as Robbie’s tongue reaches the head. Robbie does it again, licking up James’ length and closing his mouth over the head, taking the first couple of inches of James’ cock into his mouth.

“Fuck. Oh God. _Please_ ,” James moans, thrusting up into Robbie’s mouth, unexpected but shouldn’t have been. Robbie chokes a bit all the same but finds it not entirely unpleasant. Before James can start apologising for involuntary reactions, he pulls back and gives James’ cock a few slow strokes with his hand, pulling the foreskin up and then down again and running his tongue over the head.

James makes a desperate sound when Robbie lets go of his cock. He pulls James’ pants the rest of the way off before crawling up the bed to straddle him again.

As Robbie’s weight settles on him, James makes a sound of utter contentment and Robbie leans forward, kissing him, letting James taste himself on Robbie’s tongue. James moans into the kiss, grabbing at Robbie’s bare arse, shifting until their cocks are perfectly aligned, thrusting up as he pulls Robbie down, and Robbie is moaning too, the kiss turned sloppy and open-mouthed. It’s too much sensation to keep track of, James’ lips, and teeth, and tongue, the way his moans feel in the back of Robbie’s throat, all that warm skin pressed up against his own, James’ increasingly desperate thrusts, the delicious slide of James’ cock against his.

“I want you—” James gasps. “ _Fuck_. I want you inside me.” 

_Christ_. Robbie wants that too, but they’ve only just— “You’re sure?” Robbie asks.

“God, _yes_ ,” James gasps, punctuating his words with a thrust, then stretching toward the bedside cabinet. “Bottom drawer.” 

Robbie reaches over him, feeling around in the drawer until he comes up with a bottle of slick and a condom packet. He has never done this with another man, never given much thought to it, but James’ need is infectious, pulling Robbie along with him. Before Robbie knows it he’s coated his fingers in slick, James’ eyes following his movements intently. 

James bends his knees, bringing his legs up and spreading them to give Robbie better access, and Robbie doesn’t stop to think about what he’s about to do, just reaches down and presses a finger to James’ hole. James’ breath catches, his eyes going dark with lust, and then Robbie presses in. Slow at first, feeling the heat of him, the smooth slide of the slick. James lets out a long, low moan. Robbie pulls his finger partway out and presses in again, and again. They settle into a rhythm, James’ hips coming up to meet him until James gasps, _more_ , and Robbie adds a second finger, then a third, to James’ satisfied keening. 

Robbie is sure he has no idea what he’s doing, but James is leading him with moans and encouraging words. Where to put his hands, his fingers, and how, and when. He scissors his fingers, then presses them in as far as he can, feeling James tense and flex around him, stretching him, and the tenor of James’ moans changes. 

“Yes,” James gasps. “There— your finger— again—” Robbie quirks his finger and the rest of James words are lost to a deep, guttural moan and James thrusting against Robbie’s hand, riding him, pure unrestrained pleasure coming off him in waves. Like he can’t get enough. Robbie is mesmerised. He is doing this, he is giving James this much pleasure and James is letting him see, letting himself feel, leaving his pleasure quite literally in Robbie’s hands. Robbie wants to give him all that he possibly can. 

James is gasping, reaching for Robbie and pressing himself down onto Robbie’s hand with each thrust, a constant litany of sounds that are barely words, until he throws his head back arching off the bed and cries, “Oh, _fuck_. Now. _Please_. Fuck me.”

That couldn’t be clearer. James whimpers when Robbie eases his fingers out and reaches for the condom, but James already has it in his hand. Not wasting any time.

“Let me,” James says, sitting up, his chest glistening with sweat, and opens the packet with his teeth. Instead of sliding the rubber on or offering it to Robbie he leans forward and takes Robbie’s cock in his mouth. Robbie gasps at the sudden wet heat, hands coming up to clutch at James’ hair.

“Warn a bloke,” Robbie says, but the only answer he gets is James humming around his cock, purring almost, as he licks and sucks, humming low and taking Robbie even deeper. _Christ_ , how is that even possible? At this rate, he’s going to come before his cock gets anywhere near James’ arse.

“James,” Robbie gasps. “ _James_.” Robbie puts his hand on James’ jaw, tilting his head up to get his attention. James looks up at him, mouth still around Robbie’s cock. Christ, what a picture. “Better slow down if you still want the rest of it.”

Realisation dawns in James’ eyes, and he pulls off, giving the head one last lick as he goes. His lips are swollen and glistening like, well, like he’s been sucking someone’s cock. Like he’s been sucking Robbie’s cock. Robbie pulls him in for a kiss, tasting himself on James’ tongue, bitter and salt and so, so bloody hot.

When they break apart James slides the condom onto Robbie’s cock, kisses him again, and rolls over onto his stomach and up to his knees, presenting himself to Robbie.

Robbie has to squeeze the base of his cock to keep from coming right then and there all over all that glorious golden skin and round arse. He’s never given a whole lot of thought to arses, always been a breast man, but it is undeniable that James has a very fine arse indeed.

“Look at you,” Robbie says.

James is beautiful, this is a fact which Robbie has long been aware of. The long, lean lines of him, the glimpses of lightly toned rowing muscles through those well-tailored suits, now confirmed by the picture laid out before him; the planes of his back, the muscles of his shoulders, the dimples above the curve of his arse. 

“I’d rather you touch,” James says, looking over his shoulder at Robbie. He wiggles his arse in invitation, both playful and incredibly sexy.

Robbie runs his hand down along James’ back and over his arse, to a sigh of utter contentment from James, then moves forward pressing the head of his cock against James’ entrance. James sighs again and pushes back, Robbie eases forward a bit more and— _Fuck_. Tight, wet, heat. James lets out a moan that sounds like it’s being torn out of him and Robbie tries to go slow, to give James’s body time to adjust, to resist the urge to just pound into him. He pulls out a little, then presses in slowly, further this time. He can’t look away from where James’ body is stretched around him. He pulls out and pushes in again, and again until his cock is all the way in, his stomach flush against James’ arse. That is good. So fucking good. Bloody fantastic.

“ _Please_ ,” James gasps, pressing back onto Robbie. 

And Robbie starts to move, pulling almost all the way out, and then one long, slow slide back in. Then again, and faster, and harder, and he lets go, pounding into James, hands grasping at James’ hips. James meets each thrust with an answering thrust and a guttural moan. Oh, _Christ_. Robbie shifts his hips, thrusting even deeper, and James’ thrusts turn erratic, his chorus of moans reaches a crescendo, and he tenses and gives a shout, his body clenching around Robbie’s cock, pulling Robbie over the edge with him into blissful, sweaty oblivion moments later.

Robbie collapses on top of James, too spent to do anything but fall straight down, and James rolls them sideways onto the sheets. Robbie puts his arm around James and pulls him closer, revelling in the way James presses against him, the feel of warm skin and cooling sweat as they both catch their breath.

“You all right?” Robbie asks, confident of the answer he’ll receive.

“Mmm,” James says.

“That’s a yes?”

“Very much a yes. Couldn’t be more yes.” Robbie can hear the smile in his voice. James reaches his arm across Robbie and gives his arse a pat. Robbie smiles into James’ back.

Some minutes later Robbie pulls out, to a disappointed whimper from James, and disposes of the condom, tying it and tossing it off the side of the bed in the direction of where there may or may not be a bin.

James rolls over and looks at him. “Did you just throw a used condom on my bedroom floor?”

“May have.”

“Inspector Lewis,” James says. “I’m shocked,” his indignant tone belied by his huge grin.

“You cheeky, sod.” Robbie rolls James over onto his back, pinning him to the mattress.

“Oh yes, in every sense of the word,” James laughs. Robbie shakes his head at him. “You like it.”

“Aye, lad. I do.”

“Next time,” James says, squeezing Robbie’s arse. “I want to be able to see your face when you come.” His voice has gone from teasing to pure sex in seconds flat and Robbie’s cock twitches at the suggestion. James smiles—knowing, and cheeky, and full of love—and squeezes his arse again.

Robbie means to say yes, but it comes out more of a groan of desire.

“You like that idea?”

“Like doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Robbie presses himself down against James for emphasis.

James gives him possibly the soppiest, sexiest smile he’s ever seen. Looking down at James, his lips kiss-swollen, his face and neck flushed from exertion and Robbie’s stubble, his hair sticking up every which way, the heat in his eyes, the love. It’s not something Robbie ever thought he would have again, to see that look of love directed at him. And that’s what it is, beyond a doubt, love is what he sees in James’ eyes and what he feels for James. His chest is full to bursting with it. 

James is still gazing up at him, happy and relaxed, his whole body free of the tension he usually carries with him. It looks good on him, so good it has Robbie contemplating whether that next time could be right now. If he was twenty years younger, maybe.

“Sorry to say we’ll have to wait for that, lad.”

“The best things are worth waiting for,” James says.

“They are,” Robbie agrees, and kisses him.

_____


End file.
